


One More for the Road

by caffeinatedmusing



Series: Adventures of an Altmer Rogue [8]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Adoption, Bisexual Male Character, Drug Abuse, Drug Withdrawal, Dysfunctional Family, Established Relationship, Family, Gay Male Character, M/M, Thieves Guild, Wakes & Funerals, lol now im talking to myself in the tags, when i saw that was a preexisting tag i had to use it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-22 12:32:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11380248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinatedmusing/pseuds/caffeinatedmusing
Summary: When Ceirin and Teldryn travel to Blacklight to attend a relative's funeral, one particular detail to Teldryn's inheritance throws a major fork in the road that neither of them were expecting. A short story. Takes place approximately six years after TFTRH.





	1. Chapter 1

“Well now, outlander. There it is.” Teldryn’s elbow nudged him in the ribs a bit before slipping an arm around his waist.

They stood at the peak of the trail, gazing down into the bay spread out before them. High rough walls formed by magic and broken at regular intervals by lookout towers surrounded the buildings, plazas, temples, markets and streets full of people. All this in turn surrounded the bay itself; serene, sheltered, and full of ships, sparkling silver and gold under the late afternoon sun. Fishing boats dotted the waters, easy to pick out by their teeming clouds of gulls, terns, and other birds eager for the free meal as the fishermen cleaned their catch and tossed the leavings back in their wake. Across the water, Dagoth Ur’s massive peak presided over the black sand and ash shores of Vvardenfell, its ever-present steam plume drifting softly out over the water in the light breezes. Ceirin spotted a small herd of Netch drifting along the coastline.

Blacklight.

“Are you sure about this?” Ceirin wasn’t too sure which ‘this’ he was even referring to; the long journey, the funeral, or meeting people from Teldryn’s past. Not that it mattered. His legs ached and turning back now only meant an even longer hike followed by spending another night in Windhelm. That they’d come all this way for nothing. As nearly anything else was preferable, their course was set.

“Sure. It’ll be fine. I haven’t been back in far too long.” Teldryn’s red eyes were shining with more than the afternoon suns reflection. He’d been grinning and pointing out remembered landmarks for the past three hours at least.

“When was the last time you were here?” Ceirin turned to follow his husband as the latter continued along the trail with renewed enthusiasm.

“Oh, not since my mother died.” The smile dropped from Teldryns face. “I came back for that funeral and then to help my dad move to Windhelm after. He hated it there more than I ever did. Didn’t take it long to kill him, either. Why is it always funerals?” 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring that up. I’m sorry it has to be like this.” Ceirin scuffed his walking stick around in the dirt a bit. 

“Not your fault. And I do want you to see it. The funeral will only be one day. I want to make sure my aunt’s things are settled. After that, we’ll have plenty of time to sight see. I can show you the apartment where I grew up. Assuming it’s still there. I wonder how much has changed?”

In the five years since they had married, not very much had changed, that Ceirin could think of. His parents had remained in Solitude, their plans for a villa in Cyrodiil disrupted by his father’s sudden heart attack and a prolonged recovery. The experience cemented their desire to stay closer to their children, although they still complained about the weather and the lack, in their opinion, of culture. Ceirin kept his distance, and therefore, also his sanity.

Inare was growing fast, a loving little girl with a sunny disposition who showed every sign of being as bright and magically adapt as her next older sibling. Being the youngest, and the only girl, she was spoiled rotten by everyone, most especially their parents. 

Elsirion had yet to graduate, his studies having been delayed by a powerful magical artifact gone awry as well as similarly frequent and spectacular implosions of his dating life. During such periods of heartbreak, he was prone to showing up unannounced to sleep on their couch. Most recently, he had gotten back together with Tsajarra. Ceirin hoped it lasted awhile this time. He could use the stability.

Teldryn had gotten back in touch with his only remaining relative, his father’s eldest sister, Tirele Sero. That had begun with a letter Ceirin had encouraged him to write, back when they had been planning their wedding. Neither mer had really expected an answer. Teldryn had had been out of contact for so long that he had wondered if his aunt hadn’t died and he simply hadn’t heard. 

No one had been more surprised when the elderly dunmer priestess had showed up in Riften. She had promptly seized Teldryn by the ear and given him however many decades worth of grievances his lack of contact had caused her. She’d also insisted on helping with the wedding, once she had met, and approved of, Ceirin. Especially when she had come to understand that Ceirin’s parents would not be invited. It seemed at times that it had been only yesterday that they had stood together before Tirele and Dinya Balu, eyes wide to keep from tearing up, stifled bouts of nervous laughter, and smiling so much afterward that his cheeks had hurt for days. They’d stayed in contact with Tirele by letter after. 

_Had five years gone by so fast?_

It was her funeral they were traveling to attend.

Ceirin continued to follow Teldryn down the road as he mused over the way certain decisions could affect the whole of a person’s life from the moment they were made. Teldryn’s choice to move to Windhelm. His choice to leave Summerset. How paths crossed. Or didn’t.

Somewhere in the cliffs off to their right, the wheezing bark of a nix hound echoed off the lichen splotched rocks, pulling him from his reverie. Teldryn dropped a hand closer to the pommel of his sword, but otherwise gave no sign he had even noticed it. 

“You’re lucky there aren’t any cliff racers around. We’ve St Jiub to thank for that. It used to be you couldn’t make this trip without being swooped on every five minutes. They’d rip up the packs and spook the guar. Of course, it was like that everywhere. They bred like skeevers. That scar I’ve got on my shoulder is from a racer. Happened when I was five; damned thing nearly carried me off.” He chuckled at the memory. “We used to run to and from school with buckets over our heads.”

Ceirin tried not to laugh out loud at the mental image of a little Teldryn and his classmates wearing buckets like helms and fighting off racers. He couldn’t be sure how exaggerated it might be.

“Is it true that they’re all gone? Or are there just fewer of them?”

“Gone, as far as anyone knows. I wonder what became of St Jiub? I met him once, you know.” Teldryn continued his story. 

The sun was beginning to set by the time they reached the gates. Exhausted, Ceirin wanted nothing more than to find where they would be staying and get a meal and a bath. Teldryn’s excitement, however, had them trekking clear across the city; up ramps, through allies, and around a small park. All to find one specific cornerclub that Teldryn remembered as being ‘very good’ but had no way of knowing even still existed.

It did, and it was very good. Which was the only thing, aside from fatigue, that kept Ceirin from dragging his husband down to the docks and tossing him into the bay. His legs ached and the rest of him wasn’t much better.

He told Teldryn as much over mouthfuls of roasted guar meat simmered in a creamy, spicy sauce and served on top of steamed saltrice, a salad of Hackle-lo, comberries, and mushrooms, washed down with a crisp local wine. They watched the shadows stretch down to the water with the setting of the sun as they ate. 

By the time they walked back to the inn, the stars were out; strewn across a velvety purple sky, reflecting and rippling on the inky surface of the water. The lanterns hung on buildings, intersections, and along the docks hosted soft clumsy parties of fat-bodied moths fluttering in their warming glow. Ceirin couldn’t stop staring. It truly was beautiful.

“Now you know. _This_ is a city.” Teldryn murmured next to him. 

Ceirin found he couldn’t disagree. Nothing in Skyrim could compare. It almost made him wish he could visit Summerset again. Show Teldryn the graceful architecture, the magic that lit the cities, the art, the parks, the gardens… He turned to look at the park they were crossing, plants he couldn’t name tumbled over low stone borders, their fragrance luring passersby and pollinating insects alike. Statues lined the promenade. And an enormous lava rock, detritus from an eruption, presided at the center, having been turned into a fountain. The reflecting pool surrounding it lived up to its design; the boulder floated in a moat of stars. 

As they got ready for bed, he processed the day. Part of the fascination was seeing all these new things; landscapes and constellations he didn’t recognize. Teldryn knew some of them and told him legends about them as they were falling asleep. Ceirin drifted to the sound of his voice and the happiness he could hear in it at being home.


	2. Chapter 2

The funeral the next day went by in blur. Candles, priests, music, all the appropriate rites being recited. Teldryn had some duties as the only living family member, so Ceirin was on his own for a time. The incense made his nose itch so he sat stiffly, doing his best not to interrupt by squirming or sneezing. There was a small gathering afterward with refreshments for the close friends and family. Teldryn introduced him to a few people, mostly older dunmer who had been friends of his parents. The general opinion was surprise that adventurous young Teldryn Sero had settled down at all, much less with an Altmer. There were a few lame jokes about his height, some thinly veiled political comments aimed at his homeland, questions about how they had met, and the general sort of funerary comments that were meant to be comforting but weren’t. Small talk beyond that point became strained and then faltered altogether. 

As the crowd was thinning out, they were helping to pack up the leftover food, when one of the younger priests approached and spoke to Teldryn in subdued tones. 

“Forgive me, but there is an urgent matter that requires your attention. It concerns Tirele’s…estate.”

“I don’t want any of my aunt’s things; if you were worrying about her funds not going to the Temple.” Teldryn waved him away.

“The Temple appreciates your generosity. That…is not the issue. I take it you don’t know what your aunt did for us?”

“She taught. Oversaw family things…. stuff like this.” Teldryn swept a hand out to gesture around at the remnants of the funeral.

“In part. She was more a councilor than a teacher, however, and it is due to that that I need to show you something, or rather, someone.”

“I beg your pardon?” Teldryn’s brows rose, tattooed markings stretching to emphasize the expression.

“Your aunt was fostering an infant who had been surrendered to our Temple. The mother came in seeking treatment for skooma addiction. It wasn’t until after she’d given birth and the healers saw symptoms of withdrawal in the newborn that the extent of that addiction became apparent. She gave the child up and left shortly after signing the paperwork. As this baby requires more than the usual care, Tirele had taken charge of her, as she sometimes did for us. This infant is your Aunt’s ward.”

Teldryn sank slowly down, nearly missing the bench. The priest, unfazed, continued.

“As she is legally a part of Tirele’s estate, it falls to you as the only heir to sign her back over to the care of the Temple. Whenever you are ready, I can take you to see her.”

“Let me be sure I understand this…You just inherited _a baby_? And you have to go sign a permission slip to give her back?” Ceirin stood gaping, “Why can’t they just take her, it’s not like they didn’t know your aunt had her?”

“I suppose so. But they are sticklers for protocol. Dunmer inheritance laws can get…tricky. Bloodlines, different Houses, ancestral claims, shifting territories, and all that. Adherence to the law is strict.” Teldryn stood. He cocked his head and then, “I wonder how many she’s done this for?”

“Does it matter?”

“No. I know she raised my father and their other sister after their parents died. And she was a single parent to my cousin Draryn; the s’wit. She used to let people stay with her if they needed to get out of a bad situation, or they were here looking for work. I didn’t know she still did things like that.”

They followed the priest out through a side door and across a small meditative garden area to the series of buildings where the Temple’s residents and faithful lived.

Arriving at Tirele’s modest apartment, shrill wailing could be heard through the sloped, stucco covered bugshell of the building.

“I’ll warn you, she’s quite fussy. All part of the withdrawal process, we hope to see improvement by the end of the month. But until then, there’s nothing to be done about the noise.”

Ceirin took the food to the kitchen and began putting it away. No one had felt much like eating, so there was plenty leftover. Teldryn followed the priest as he went to pay and dismiss the young woman who’d been acting as the wet nurse for the day. After Ceirin was done, he washed his hands and splashed some water on his face before following the sounds of upset baby and quiet conversation deeper into the house. 

He found them in the tiny bedroom; Teldryn was over by the crib, attempting to make introductions with his new charge. The baby had stopped shrieking; hiccup-y breathes filled the lull between as she wound up for more.

“Does she have a name?” Teldryn asked, “How old is she?”

“Tirele called her Evesa. I do not know if she chose it or if the childs mother did.” The priest set out a quill and wax for the seal. “Three weeks.”

“The paperwork is here, on the table.”

Teldryn ignored the man.

Ceirin watched as Teldryn leaned down; Evesa’s little ribs heaved, wet red eyes squinting up at a stranger, before her tiny face crumpled and she began screaming again. She started to shake. 

He watched as Teldryn fixed up her blankets, tucking them around her stiff, flailing limbs to keep her snug. Once the baby was wrapped up, he scooped her up to his shoulder, rubbing her back with one broad, scarred hand, careful to keep her neck supported. 

Before too long, he was pacing around with her, talking; telling her a story about some mischief he and his cousin had gotten into when they had been very young. His voice seemed to be calming her some. She went back to hiccupping. 

Ceirin watched the whole thing, feeling a bit detached. Spending the day among strangers, his goal had been to offer support. But Teldryn was handling all this better than Ceirin was, so he had hung back, feeling more useless and in the way. Now he sat and watched Teldryn try his best to comfort the poor thing while he froze up over memories of how bad withdrawal could get and just what this baby was going through. _Some support I am._

He saw the exact moment her condition broke Teldryn’s heart. 

The exact moment when his husband’s protective nature kicked in and he decided she was his. Because that was the moment his eyes lifted to meet Ceirin’s.

“Do you need those signed right now?” Ceirin turned to the priest, “It’s been a long day.” 

“Would you like some time to consider? Very well, muthsera’s, but please don’t delay. The Temple would appreciate having this matter settled before the weeks end, as I am sure you can understand.” 

Ceirin made the appropriate demurring noises and saw the priest out.

They spent the rest of the afternoon at Aunt Tirele’s. Teldryn continued with his stories until Evesa fell asleep, fitful but finally quiet and back in her crib. He even got Ceirin to laugh as he recalled his childhood and the things he, his cousin, and their assorted friends had gotten up to. 

Come evening, a new caretaker arrived to watch the baby for the night.

They left soon after to get dinner; Teldryn had promised him that Blacklight had excellent seafood, so they headed off in search of the place. Much like before, his promise about the food held; Mazte marinated sea snails served chilled, sliced raw in their own shells, pan seared scallops fragrant with spices, and a rich crabmeat and alit stew served in a bread bowl, so spicy that it made Ceirin’s eye’s water and his nose run. Dessert was an eggy sort of tart topped with snowberry sauce, the little bowls set in platters of crushed ice to keep them chilled. 

Teldryn was quiet all through their meal. And on the walk back to their inn room. Distracted.

Ceirin watched him from where he leaned on the railing out on the balcony overlooking the sea and waited. The breeze was mild and the ash was all falling away to the south; it was a beautiful night. It would have been perfect for a romantic stroll along the park, but tonight it seemed, they had something they needed to discuss.

The spellsword chewed his lip as he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling off his boots. He kept glancing up when he thought Ceirin wasn’t looking. Finally, he came out and joined his husband on the balcony. 

Ceirin wrapped his arms around him. And waited.

“…. Love? I was thinking….” 

“You want to keep her.” It wasn’t a question. “To bring her home with us.”

Teldryn drew back and looked up at him.

“…Yes.” He took a deep shaky breath and plunged ahead. “I know we haven’t talked about children yet but she needs a family. We could be that. We’ve got the space and the coin. Those priests can’t manage her on their own much longer. Aunt Tirele was good with babies, but you saw the rest of them, a little screaming and they can’t wait to run back to their nice quiet shrines. What if no one adopts her? It’s sudden, I know, but I can’t stand to think of her winding up in an orphanage.” 

“I know.” Ceirin tread carefully. “I just think we should consider all the options here. The papers they want you to sign would put her back in their care, right? Not into an orphanage.”

“Sure. But it’s bound to happen anyway. That’s where they’ll…” Teldryn stopped shaking his head and looked at Ceirin again. “You don’t want this, do you?”

“I didn’t say that. This isn’t a decision to make suddenly.” 

“Do you think we should just _leave her here_? We head home at the end of the week. We don’t have a lot of time to decide.” Teldryn was upset now, anger and hurt sparking in his red eyes. “What do you think will happen to her?”

Ceirin rubbed his face. “That’s not what I said.” 

He took Teldryn by the shoulders, feeling the tension in the muscles there, sliding his hands up to hold the sides of Teldryn’s face, forcing the spellsword to look him in the eyes.

“ _If_ we are going to do this, then we need to do what’s best for her. She’s sick from her mother’s addiction, but in what ways and for how long? He said she needed more care than usual. What did he mean?”

Teldryn shook his head, shrugging. 

“I don’t know either. So, tomorrow morning, I think we should go down to the temple and talk to some of the healers. Find out what we would be dealing with. Does that sound like a starting place?”

He felt Teldryn relax as he’d made the offer, knew the answer before his husband nodded, hands coming up to clasp his wrists. He smirked a little; smug in the knowledge that he could read Teldryn so well.

“What?! You’re laughing at me. Fetcher.”

“Hmm. I haven’t heard that one in a while.” He kissed the bridge of Teldryn’s nose. “And I’m not laughing at you. Well, I am, but I’m just… surprised, is all. I’m usually the one who makes the decision based solely on emotion and runs off with it and you’re the one dragging me back and insisting on the plan. How do you do this?”

Teldryn snorted and shook his head, stepping forward to wrap his arms around Ceirin. They stood leaning against one another for a few moments before Teldryn pulled away again.

“Sometimes I forget how young you are. If you’re really not ready for this…I…we can…” He swallowed hard, grimacing.

“Because you’re such an antique.” Ceirin teased him, then added on a serious note, “Look at you, you can’t even say it.”

“I _can't_ leave her here.”

“…What if she’s better off here? It’s a long trip back. The mountain passes aren’t the best place for a baby.” _What if she gets worse or gets hurt? How can we defend if one of us has to watch her?_

“I don’t see how she could be better off; she needs more care than they can manage long term. And loads of people trekked those passes with babies even before the Red Year, so that argument is out. We’ve defended ourselves just fine with just the two of us when we were weighed down with Dwemer loot and made a tempting target. We can get her home.”

“Well, even assuming the healers give us the go ahead, and we can find resources for anything she might need back home…. what about her parents?”

“Nchow! What about them?” Teldryn’s voice sunk to a snarl. “N’wahs did this to their own child. I couldn’t care less about them.”

Ceirin rubbed at the bridge of his nose for a bit, setting his thoughts in order, before he responded.

“Two points; First, addiction can be unbelievably hard to beat. I _still_ get cravings. And I wasn’t what’s considered a heavy user. So maybe don’t judge people you’ve never met. Secondly, Evesa is still their child. The mother may have signed away parental rights, but did her father? Does she have any other relatives who might want her?”

“Times like this, it’s easy to see you’re a judge’s kid.” Teldryn ran his hands through his hair as he paced in thought. “I don’t know. How would we find that out?”

Ceirin lifted the documents the priest had left and began to skim.

“Alright, these are just for you to sign her back over…. But this references a date...I think it’s how long Tirele had her? We need to look for the papers her mother signed to surrender her and anything your aunt signed to accept the guardianship. Would those be in her things? Or maybe at the Temple?” 

“Sure, we can ask. Are you really ready for this?”

“…Is anyone? Like you said, we have the space, and the coin. And I know we never really talked about it anymore. I know you wanted a family. Please don’t be mad, but I don’t think there was ever going to be a day where I woke up and thought ‘today I am officially ready to consider children’. Plenty of people who want kids turn out to be not so great parents.” He ducked when Teldryn threw a sock at him. “ _Mine_ being a prime example.”

“That reminds me,” The spellsword made a face, “Can we agree, right now, that your parents are not to be left alone with any child we take in?”

“You do know they would never hurt a child, right? They say awful things sometimes and they still have some very… sorts of beliefs, but they would never hurt her.”

“Except by saying awful things to her about their Thalmor beliefs. That’s what they did with you and Elsirion, right? It’s what you worry about with your sister.”

“…Point taken.”

They kept talking as they got ready for bed, too keyed up for sleep but emotionally drained enough to feel the need for routine and some semblance of rest.

“I didn’t know about you still getting cravings…Why didn’t you tell me?” 

Ceirin sighed. “Because I ignore them; it doesn’t happen often anymore. And I just did tell you. Don’t change the subject. I was not expecting our trip to take a turn like this. I knew you wanted children but I didn’t know you meant _right now_ … Or did you have day when you woke up and decided and you didn’t tell me?”

“I don’t…. I didn’t. It’s just her. I’m not suggesting we raid every orphanage we pass on the way back. Ceirin, if you really don’t want this, please say so. This is serious. We can’t give her back once we agree to this.”

“It’s not that. It’s…. I’m not in the same place you are, yet. It’s going to take me more time to get used to the idea. Get used to her. We’re really doing this…. We’ll have to get a crib, clothes, and some toys… I wonder if my parents still have any of Inare’s baby things?” 

Ceirin was mostly musing to himself at that point when Teldryn broke it off with a kiss. Ceirin’s trail of thought scattered as his husband climbed on top of him and put his mouth to better use.


	3. Chapter 3

They landed in Riften some three weeks later, after papers had been signed, adoption interviews conducted, and appropriate fees paid to the Temple, with one very stinky and irritable six week old baby. The trip had been hard on her. She was short on sleep, having trouble keeping her milk down, and had gone through diapers much faster than either of them had anticipated. At the moment, she was haphazardly bundled in one of Ceirin’s extra shirts, which he had decided he did _not_ want back. 

Teldryn was stressed over fears of malnourishment and was insisting they stop in Whiterun on their way to Lakeview to have her checked by the healers there. Her declining health was one of the main issues Ceirin had had against this whole endeavor but whenever he had brought it up, Teldryn had argued with him. The journey had been made under an aura of sullen animosity the last several days. He was fighting a tension headache. 

Once they were more or less settled in and both Teldryn and Evesa were catching up on some much-needed sleep, he snuck out and headed down to the Ratway, ostensibly to get caught up on what he’d missed while out of town; a thin cover for wanting the company of people who didn’t need diapers and who screamed somewhat less. Plus, there was alcohol.

“Am… I a horrible pershon?” He asked, after explaining the new family member over quite a few drinks. “I feel like… a horrible person. I just want the poor tiny thing..to… sshhhut up. I wanna be able to shleep. Peas and quiet.”

Vex looked up from her cards. “Shit. I don’t think so. But I’m not a baby person, so what do I know?”

Ceirin nodded and went back to his drink. He’d gotten drunk fast and now slouched against the bar and watched while they continued to play. He’d given Thrynn his cards during a final moment of sobriety when he’d realized he could no longer keep track of them.

“What are you going to do about it?” Delvin asked, sipping his whiskey. His sober state indicated an intent to fleece his fellows.

“What do ya mean?” 

“Well, if you didn’t want this child, maybe there’s someone else who could take her? She needs a home, nothing says its got to be yours. Teldryn’ll get over it. He’s a reasonable fellow.”

“She’ll outgrow it evens…eve…eventually. I hope. An he won’t.” Ceirin put his head down on his arms.

“Babies cry. That’s just what they do, right?” Thrynn shrugged, though whether it was over his cards or the comment was debatable. He sucked on the inside of his cheek for a moment, and then played his hand.

Vex swore and threw her cards down. 

“You’ll.. be… a great da.” Brynjolf, sitting next to him at the bar, and nearly as drunk, slapped his shoulder almost hard enough to send them both tipping in opposite directions. “I jusht…know it.”

Delvin made tsking sounds and deliberately placed each of his cards down with a slap.

Thrynn groaned. “These cards are crap, boss. Thanks for nothing.” 

Delvin cackled as he lunged in and swept up the coins.

“Y’rwelcome.” Ceirin didn’t lift his head from the bar.

It was midafternoon by the time he shuffled home, fading hangover still sour in the pit of his stomach and the back of his head, churning up along with the guilt at having left for so long. At not wanting to go back. _Please be asleep._

The house was quiet when he got in; Evesa was asleep. Teldryn, however, was awake. And pissed off. 

“I left a note.”

“And what was I supposed to do with that? I needed you here and I couldn’t follow you.”

“I’m sorry. I just….needed to get away.” He finished in a whisper.

“Away? _Already?_ It’s only been a week on the road. We have been here for one day. And we still have to get to Lakeview. I told you, if you were not ready for this, you should have told me. It’s too late now. But, Ceirin, I can’t do this without you.” Teldryn’s voice broke. “I don’t _want_ to do this without you.”

The hurt, outrage, and disbelief in those red eyes broke Ceirin’s resolve, turned the guilt straight to heartache.

“I just…….I don’t feel…” He dropped into a kitchen chair. “Anything.”

Teldryn was ready with a few scathing remarks, but he stopped when he saw the tears sliding down Ceirin’s face.

“What is this?”

“I thought…by now I would have caught up. I’d understand what you see when you look at her. What makes you think she’s yours now. Why you love her. But I don’t feel _anything_. … Is this what it’s like for my parents? If that’s why they can’t….why they never… _I don’t want to be like them._ ”

“But what if I never….. if this is the best I can manage?” Ceirin’s breathing kept hitching. Gold eyes bright with tears, all guilt and self- doubt, risked a glance up at Teldryn as he swiped at his cheeks with the back of his hand. “I don’t want her to have to grow up like that because of me.”

Teldryn groaned, muttering several choice curses in Dunmeri, and scrubbed his hands over his face and up through his hair before he dropped to kneel in front of Ceirin.

“Do you love me?”

“…Of course, I do! How can you ask me that?”

“So _you can come to your damned senses_ and remember that you’re not incapable of the emotion.” He moved to pull Ceirin’s hands into his own. “You have shitty parents. But you _know_ they’re shitty. You’re not shy about arguing their views. It’s one of the things I admire about you. It means you decided not to be like them a long time ago.” 

“Just because you thought you would love Evesa by now doesn’t mean you never will. You take good care of her, that’s all that matters for now.” He continued, “And you’re not the only one who’s terrified of screwing this up.”

“You’re…?…But you’ve been…..so completely sure this whole time. You _knew_ when you saw her.” Ceirin slid off the chair to sit on the floor with Teldryn, leaning his head on the spellsword’s shoulder while Teldryn ran his fingers through Ceirin’s hair. 

“Knowing what I want and what has to be done isn’t the same as knowing what I’m doing to get there. I don’t. Ceirin, the only baby I’ve ever been around much is your sister! I don’t know how to…Why do think I panicked when you were gone for so long? At least you have some experience.”

That got a watery laugh. “I’m so sorry. I owe you. I will stay and watch her some night and you can go out and get drunk and not come home until I’m pulling my hair out from worry.”

“Hm. Sounds good. I’m taking you up on that.”

“We’re a mess, aren’t we? I didn’t think being a parent would be like this.” 

“Sure, but we’re a mess together. I think we can pull through.” 

Their makeup kiss was just getting properly intense when Evesa started to cry.


	4. Chapter 4

“Hello? Anyone home? Mom?” Ceirin swallowed against the clot of anxiety in his throat and shut the heavy door, the sound loud in the empty hall. 

“Honored to see you, my…Oh. May I help you?” The housecarl shifted abruptly upon realizing who he was. Or, more precisely, who he wasn’t.

“Are my parents around?”

“Lord Arncurion is at the college this afternoon for a lecture, and Lady Nalarie and her daughter are up at the palace for tea.”

“Great. That’s fine.” Ceirin almost toppled over, his relief was so sudden. “Maybe you can tell me…Did they store away any of my sister’s things from when she was a baby?” 

“I think so,” Jordis cocked her head in thought, “Check the storage room to the right at the bottom of the stairs, there might be some things in there.”

Ceirin thanked her and headed down to the cellar. Or what was a wealthy upscale houses version; no cobwebs or rat nests to be found here, this foundation was leakproof and everything was swept clean. Servants quarters were off to the left. Storage to the right. He lit enough lanterns to see by and looked around. A spare coat rack, unused extra chairs against one wall. Something large and draped with a sheet to keep off the dust. Boxes and crates were stacked about, no labels. 

“Great. Not like I was in a hurry…” Muttering, he pulled up his sleeves and got to work opening and exploring.

In one box, he found old alchemy paraphernalia. His mothers, no doubt. In another, toys Inare no longer played with. He shoved that to the side. Others held off season items, heavy winter coats and extra blankets. One was neatly rolled scrolls; his father’s works. Symphonies, sonatas, operas, the occasional sonnet. One paper caught his eye.

Despite his rush, he pulled the ink splotched scroll free and unraveled it. Childish writing marked the page, along with little ink smeared fingerprints and…a doodle of a giant sload pooping out the notes.

Ceirin snorted and put it back, bemused. He remembered the scolding he’d gotten from _that_ lesson. _Why does he still have that?_

Finally, he found the box of baby clothes. He tossed in a few of the toys, soft animals, and resealed it. The sound of voices from upstairs made him pause.

“Welcome home, my lord.” 

“Good day, Jordis. Where is my errant son hiding? I saw his companion in the carriage outside.”

 _Shit. Time to go._ He hoisted the box and headed up.

“Father. I just came to pick up few things.” 

“No hello? We’ve barely seen you. You just missed your mother’s birthday. Perhaps you should consider bringing her something? An apology would be a good place to start if you wanted ideas.”

“ _Hello_ , father. Sorry, I’m in a bit of a rush right now, so if you don’t mind…” Ceirin jerked his chin toward the door, indicating his intended path.

Arncurion didn’t move.

“And now I find you sneaking in while we are not at home. What are you stealing now?”

Ceirin turned and slammed the box down on the table.

“I am not stealing. They’re Inare’s baby things. I just thought, since you and mom aren’t going to be using them again, you wouldn’t mind if I took them. I was going to leave a note.” The lie came easily.

“You should really check with your mother first.”

“Why? You’re…not planning on using these again.. _are you?”_

Arncurion mock clutched at his chest, “Aedra, no. Inare is a delight, but she was a surprise and we got very lucky. Even born early, she was still healthy. It’s not something either your mother or I dare to repeat at our ages.” 

He was staring at the box now as if it might contain something dangerous.

 _An attempt at… humor?_ Ceirin squinted at his father. Since his heart attack, Arncurion tired far more easily, but he had also loosened up some. Not much. But a little. 

“I think she may have been saving them for your brother, when the time comes.”

“Ah. Of course. The problem with that, is that the minute he catches wind of it, he’ll spend the rest of his life getting drunk and sleeping on my couch just to spite her.”

Arncurion’s brows rose at the description of his younger son and Ceirin bit his tongue. 

“Not that he has been. Recently.” He amended, rather too late. 

“Speaking of drunk,” Arncurion studied Ceirin, taking in the disheveled hair, stained shirt, and dark circles under his eyes. “Are _you_ on something? You look horrid.”

Ceirin had to stop and pinch the bridge of his nose to keep his temper.

“I have had an average of five, maybe six, hours of sleep a night these last four weeks and I really do need to get back, so if that will be all…?”

His father scowled in disapproval but whatever reply he’d been about to give was interrupted by a thud at the door. Jordis lunged to answer it, relief at the interruption plain on her pale features.

“Hey. Just came to see if you needed a hand with anything?” Teldryn stood on the threshold, Evesa tucked in one arm. She was half asleep, sucking on a soothing ring, and blissfully quiet. The healers in Whiterun had shared some excellent advice and over the last week, she had begun to eat and sleep a bit better.

Ceirin shot a look of gratitude to him for the timing.

Arncurion took in the baby in Teldryn’s arms and turned to his son.

“So this is the reason for raiding your sister’s things? Whose child is she?” He was looking at Teldryn, who stared right back.

“She’s ours. We adopted her while we were in Blacklight.” Ceirin braced for the reaction.

“….Did you, now?” Arncurion stood still for a long moment, until Ceirin was getting fidgety from nerves. “You had better stay here tonight. Your mother will want to see her.”

“I swear if this is a setup for one of those ‘bloodlines’ sort of lectures, I will…” Ceirin’s voice dropped an octave, thu’um resonating. His normal speaking voice, after the events on Summerset, had come back rough, more hoarse. The thu’um that much closer to the surface. Personally, Teldryn found it attractive, but it also had the effect of making him sound angrier than he was, an intimidation factor, especially to those who didn’t know him well. When he was angry, it got terrifying fast.

Arncurion sighed and lifted his hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Peace, Ceirindril. I do not wish to fight with you.”

Ceirin took in the stooped shoulders, the silver- blonde hair gone nearly all to silver these days, the deep lines creased in the thin skin around his eyes and mouth. _His father was old_. The realization struck him hard. He had known it, but seeing it was different.

“Sorry. I hate constantly having to be on the defensive here.”

“As do I. But, as this is… our first…grandchild,” He shaped the word carefully, as if uncertain of its meaning. “Your mother _will_ want to see her. Please, come in.” 

He gestured for Teldryn to get in off the stoop where he’d been lingering in preparation to leave. 

“It is either this or the Inn. Or were you fool enough to try and travel back tonight with such a young infant?” 

After a bit more hesitation, they ended up taking the guest room.

“Do we wake her up to feed her?” Ceirin whispered as Teldryn carefully shifted the sleeping baby back into the little basket that served as her travel bed.

“I think we have to? It’ll be worse later if she’s skipped a meal.”

Ceirin agreed and headed down to the kitchen. After asking the cook for a few items and where things where located, he set to work preparing a bottle. It was close enough to alchemy to be relaxing. Steam clean the bottle and the nipple. Milk, heated to a specific temperature. Warm but not hot. Five drops of the herbal extract that helped settle her stomach. Test it on his wrist. 

Arncurion came in and watched him for a bit. “You are good at this.”

“That’s funny, coming from you. I feel like a fraud.”

“I never pretended to be good father. The least I could do was try and stay out of your way.”

Ceirin stopped and stared at him. 

“If you didn’t want to be a father…why did you and mom have us?”

“The idea of children had some appeal. The reality of them was quite different. And you assume Altmer are given a choice to not have children.” Arncurion peered at him over the rim of his spectacles.

“I know there’s pressure. But if you really didn’t want kids, why have them?”

“It was a foregone conclusion. Pressure is not the correct word. By the time you were born, things were closer to normal. You do not recall how it was before the Oblivion Crisis. And after. The horrors. All of our loss. A population barely large enough to be viable. Children were our only hope to survive. Once our numbers started to come back up….well, the fear stays with you, as does the sense of obligation.”

It was the most he had ever heard his father talk about those days. 

“For what it is worth, I regret that I was not a good father. But I have only ever had talents for music and for teaching. I chose to stay with what I knew best in the hope that it would do the least harm.”

Ceirin could only nod, throat too thick to speak, confused by what could have driven this confession, as he watched his father turn and leave to go and read in the sunroom. 

He shook himself out of his melancholy thoughts, finished screwing the nippled lid back onto the bottle, and headed back up to get Evesa her dinner.

He was sitting back against the headboard with Evesa propped in one hand and her bottle in the other while Teldryn dozed next to him, catching a nap before they had to go down to dinner, when he heard the front door again and low voices in conversation. His mother had come home. He must have tensed up because Evesa let go of her bottle and started fussing to find it again.

Sure enough, footsteps came running and his little sister hurtled into view around the doorway. 

“Momma, I found them! There _is_ a baby! Come quick!” Inare was clambering up on the bed, climbing over Teldryn to try and get a closer look.

Teldryn groaned and rubbed his eyes, recognizing that his brief window to rest was over. 

“Hey, what’s that climbing all over me. Someone set a nix puppy loose in here?” He tugged at Inare’s nose and tousled her hair after she flung her arms around his neck for a hug before plunking her down next to him so she could observe Evesa while the baby ate without interfering.

“Hey, kiddo.” Ceirin grinned at his little sister. “How was tea?”

Inare stuck her tongue out and blew a raspberry. “Boring. It’s all about manners and liking ladies.”

Ceirin shook with laughter. Teldryn made as if to wipe pretend spit from the raspberry off the side of his face which made Inare giggle and hid the fact that he was laughing, too.

“ _Being ladylike_.” Nalarie corrected her daughter from the doorway.

“That’s what I said.” Inare argued. “Look at her, momma. I want to hold her. Can I, please?”

“I see her, dear. Let her eat first. And then only if you have permission.”

“Pleeeeeeaaaaassse?” At the tender age of six, Inare had mastered the puppy dog look. Her ornately braided hair swayed as she leaned her head against Ceirin’s shoulder, blinking up at him. Teldryn reached over and fixed one of the ribbons that had come loose over the course of the day.

“Dinner first. Then we’ll see. Now go and wash up and make sure Father does the same, ok, kiddo?”

“Okay!” 

Teldryn picked her up, let her kick off the bed so he could flip her over before he plunked her back to the floor and she ran off. 

“I see you’ve chosen to blindside us again?” Her daughter out of earshot, Nalarie arched one of her immaculately plucked eyebrows at the trio before her. “Is it really too much to tell us what’s going on with you?”

“We’ve been over this time and time again, mom. I would be happy to keep you up to speed if you would quit judging everything I do.”

Evesa turned her face away from her bottle, milk dribbling across her chin. Ceirin sighed and set the bottle down and wiped her little face clean. She tried to turn away from the touch and wouldn’t take the bottle back after. He handed her off to Teldryn, who cuddled her against his shoulder.

“Your father says you need some things for her?”

“Yeah. If it’s alright. Dad said it was ok to take the clothes. Do you still have Inare’s old crib or anything else she could use?”

“You are serious about this?”

Ceirin scoffed and stared at his mother. “You think I, what, got married and adopted a child on a whim?”

“All your life, you have done things to get attention. I could not be sure that wasn’t precisely what you had done.”

“….” Ceirin just shook his head. There were no words to express what he wanted to say without raising his voice and cursing.

“The very first I ever heard of my son being interested in men was when you introduced him. The very first I heard of you getting married, I offered to help, only to be told we weren’t invited. Now the very first I hear of you starting a family is to come home and find this.” She gestured at Evesa, who was working herself up for a fuss on Teldryn’s shoulder.

“I am too tired to fight with you over all this yet again. I am tired of having to defend myself and people I love to you and against you. As I just said, stop judging me and maybe then I can stop avoiding you.” Ceirin dared to meet his mother’s eyes.

Nalarie pressed her lips into a tight line, dark eyes shining with what Ceirin was stunned to realize were tears. He could not recall ever seeing his mother cry.

She took a deep breath and wiped her hands on her skirt as if she were brushing away crumbs. A nervous gesture. 

“…May we start over?” Her voice was soft, hesitant.

Ceirin blew out the breath he’d been holding, gusting a few stray strands of hair out of his eyes.

“We can try.”

“…..Congratulations.” She pressed her lips together again and awaited his response, expression expectant.

To a stranger, it would have seemed sarcastic. Ceirin studied her for a long moment, searching for hints and not finding much.

“Thank you. And, um, Dad reminded me, happy birthday.” 

Nalarie’s shoulders relaxed and she nodded before turning and heading down to oversee the meal preparations.

Ceirin and Teldryn exchanged and incredulous glance. 

“What’s their game?” The spellsword asked.

“I have no idea. But if playing nice is part of it, for tonight, I’ll take it.”

Dinner was a plump roast chicken with mushrooms and gravy, fresh bread with herbed butter, and sautéed greens. Both mer ate like starving wolves. It was a relief, as tired as they both were, to enjoy food they hadn’t needed to prepare or worry about cleaning up after themselves.

The conversation was hesitant, but they got thru it without argument for once. Evesa sucked on her soothing ring in her basket, fussing whenever she lost it until she fell asleep again. 

“Do you need any legal help with the paperwork?” Nalarie offered.

“No, thanks. It’s all settled. They wouldn’t let us take her out of the city, much less across the border, without that.”

“And you had a lawyer look it all over?” 

“Yes, mother. I read it myself, too. Yes, even the fine print.”

“Good.” 

After dinner, Teldryn gave Evesa a bath while Inare argued her bedtime with Arncurion and Nalarie helped Ceirin go through the baby clothes box. Nalarie had been incensed to discovered that the only things Evesa had to wear so far were diapers and blankets. She had insisted they find something for her to sleep in.

“My mother always told me that a lady needs a wardrobe and that it was never too soon to start.”

Some of the things his mother had picked for his sister were a bit much; frothy layers, bows, a disproportionate amount of lace, a small hat drowning in felt flowers, tiny matching pairs of shoes for every outfit. Ridiculous and probably uncomfortable for a baby and a hassle for whoever had to change the diapers. Of course, Ceirin realized, she had always hired a nanny, and so had never had to deal with the practicalities herself.

“Evesa is going to look _darling_ in pink. With those red eyes, and a bit of white or maybe purple for an accent. Ooh, Inare never wore these, they were a gift from someone, and they didn’t fit her.” She held up a lacy little floral print dress with matching hair bow and tiny little leather buckled shoes.

“Maybe for tomorrow?”

Ceirin held his tongue, however, listening to every memory, recommendation, and fashion critique with good humor until they settled on a soft yellow night gown with little bees embroidered all over it. It was far too long, but Nalarie showed them how to tie it off at the hem to keep her feet warm and knot the sleeves to prevent her nails from scratching her face. 

When Inare came shuffling in, in her own nightgown, they set her on the bed surrounded by pillows, and let her hold Evesa on her lap for a few minutes. She smacked a kiss on the baby’s forehead and said goodnight.

The two mer went to bed not long after, too tired to focus on the strangely amicable evening. At least the stone walls blocked out sound so they could talk for a while and prevented Evesa from waking the entire building when she cried at night.

They headed back to Lakeview in the morning, better rested than they would have been at the Inn, with several boxes of baby things to tide them over, and a request from Ceirin’s parents to let them visit some time once they had gotten Evesa settled.

“I still can’t get over them being halfway nice to us.” Teldryn yawned and leaned over to check on how Evesa was doing in her basket, wearing her new little outfit. Nalarie had insisted. She had dropped her soothing ring in favor of sucking on her fingers. A soft stuffed Netch toy scented with lavender oil was tucked in beside her.

“Dad almost dying scared them into it, I think. They realized we might not be around when they need us and they don’t want to die alone.

“Does anyone? Still, I wouldn’t get my hopes up.”

“I’m not. We’ll see how they do, like you asked. I like the idea of Evesa getting to have grandparents, but like my father said, the idea versus the reality can be different.” He straightened up as a thought occurred to him. “We have to tell Elsirion.”

“Assuming he’s not on the couch when we get home.”

“Yes, let’s hope not. How’s she doing?”

“Asleep. I think the motion of the cart helps.”

“You think we could raise her to like traveling?”

Teldryn laughed.

“In her seven weeks of living, she’s spent almost half of it on the road. I think we already are.”

**Author's Note:**

> *headdesks* I really thought I was done with these two idiots. Apparently not. Fickle muse is fickle. ( tfw you want to write something new and have 0 ideas but get loads of ideas for a thing you thought you were done with...oh, well. I decided to go with it.) Also, I'm just making stuff up for Blacklight. There are a few images online, but I picture it a bit differently. 
> 
> Anyway, here's hoping you'll all come along for the ride. : )


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